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#take this small little guy as a treat
annqer · 3 months
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heres a CUTE and SILLY lil sunday goob thats not an eldritch horror this time
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vashie in the hotel bed....
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bumbleblurr · 2 years
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gives shockwave sympathetic traits but also won't let him escape the consequences of his actions
#i do see ppl get upset abt like getting upset abt making the male cons sympathetic which like. im guilty of that a bit yeah#which is not particularly great when ba is often just thrown under the bus for being So Mean to poor little optimus cry cry so sad#he obviously had No part in how she ended up in her current position#& she has no right to be upset about it due to how severe the trauma of it was and how it changed her life#(sarcasm. this is sarcasm)#like yeah there is some irrationality in her anger when u consider some details but like#girl i think she should be mad regardless. thats my hot take#anyway. yeah when ppl shit on ba but then they turn around and treat other Far Less ''redeemable'' characters better it is a bad look#but i prommy i am not doing thay i swear 🥺#i just think shockwave is neat and i want to shake him around in a jar i trap him in#like yes. i like to interpret him not as a complete heartless villain#w/ sympathetic traits that are based on small details i focus too much on#but also i never am like ''so thats why its ok for shockwave to harm & traumatize ppl#bc the cons are the good guys so all the fucked up shit they do in canon & fanon is justified''#which. i see often :|#but have u considered (twirls my hair) what if Shockwave is not a 100% good person even if i made him sympathetic heehee hoohoo#bc maybe cubing ppl is a bad thing actually#i think hes more interesting to me if hes a sad loser that ended up doing horrible things that he does have to face consequences for#if he had a redemption arc i think he would have his work cut out him#but definitely i think he has more of a chance than megs would#esp since part of what i think makes shockwave sympathetic is how megs is 100% willing to let him die if it benefited him#even though that dude dedicates himself so much to him & is considered one of his most loyal followers#and he gets rewarded by being shoved into an incinerator to power a escape ship#if he managed to survive that i think he'd just have a rlly intense existential crisis about the whole thing#which might be his opening to redeem himself if he doesnt become Worse during all that despair#anyway i think the point of this tag dump was#im not like other tf:a shockwave enjoyers. i want to see that british moose meet his doom#bc it would be awful for him but oh so so fun for me#and then maybe he can be ok in the end or if not. exploded into pieces#🐝 could you repeat the last part? 🟦
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fatherfigureneeded · 18 days
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bro i went on a run wit my dog this morning and this shit deadass solved all my problems
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blindedguilt · 7 months
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DND Your Muse
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Tagged by: @poppydedicant (Thanks for the tag! Picrews are my fave omg <3)
I Tag: Not the best answer but I'm too tired to tag genuinely, go nuts vjfsjhkjkl
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sapsolais · 11 months
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sometimes i wish i were a cat
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tender-rosiey · 3 months
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“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”
— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)
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a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)
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GOJO SATORU:
your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.
his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.
not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.
no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.
he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.
it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”
“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”
“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”
he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”
a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.
d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”
“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.
he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”
but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.
you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.
your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”
she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!
at least, that’s what he thinks.
d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.
how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.
his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.
a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.
GETO SUGURU:
geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.
he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.
to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.
aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.
for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.
that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.
each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.
and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.
another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.
that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.
so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.
“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”
you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”
he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”
one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.
now, you have two crying babies.
congratulations!
so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.
they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.
he should probably stop calling them that though.
NANAMI KENTO:
now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.
it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.
she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.
that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.
he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.
like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.
however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.
and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.
he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.
she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”
anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?
so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.
you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”
gojo gasps, “what?!”
you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”
nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.
with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”
she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”
“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”
a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”
your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense. 
gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.
meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.
the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.
everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.
the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.
you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.
you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.
“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.
“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”
your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”
the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.
sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”
your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.
swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.
while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.
when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”
“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.
you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”
sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”
s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.
your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.
you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.
s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.
why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.
he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.
toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”
shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.
toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”
toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?���
your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”
another time was when you guys grocery shopping.
you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?
so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.
megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.
to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.
you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.
so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”
“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”
“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”
he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”
“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.
“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”
apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”
toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.
your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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cyberm4n · 3 months
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alastor and lucifer sharing you
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alastor x reader x lucifer headcanons
pt2
cw: 18+, semi explicit smut? dom! alastor, dom! lucifer, alastor basically pitches a hinge relationship
■ alastor and lucifer had known this was a long time coming.
■ between the gifts lucifer makes you and the little friendly affections alastor only gave you, it didn't take long for either of them to realize the predicament.
■ at first, neither want to share, and neither are entertaining the idea of the other having you.
■ however alastor gets an idea as lucifer is arguing he'd be the most likely to please me the most
■ alastor has never been a fan of touch, not that he would deny intimacy with you, but he definitely doesn't prefer it.
■ but standing infront of him is a man who prides himself on treating his partners well, both in and outside of the bedroom.
■ i imagine in this scenario alastor is less concerned about being your partner but more about making sure lucifer can't have you all to himself
■ alastor doesn't like to share, but if it means he gets to have possession of you without the intimacy, he's going to take it.
"maybe there's a simple compromise here after all" alastor says, looking down at the man standing before him, lucifer sighing in frustration.
"oh really? and what would you propose?" he says with snark, not expecting what alastor suggests even a little.
■ it's a simple arrangement, really.
■ lucifer gets to do whatever he wants, gets to have you, but alastor gets to watch and maybe occasionally participate
■ but of course, they have to convince you too.
"i— you guys want to what?" you'd say, they'd both approached you while you were in your room. you sat on the small couch while they sat across from you on the bed.
"darling," alastor would tut, giving you a look "it's a simple question. yes or no" he says, and it's getting harder to ignore the hand lucifer had placed on your thigh, slowly working it's way up.
they'd started out this conversation by explicitly stating if you were uncomfortable at all, everything stops no questions asked.
but they wanted to hear you say yes.
■ i think they'd be like "good cop, bad cop"
■ lucifer, who's been between your thighs for what feels like hours, cooing such sweet praises everytime he coaxed an orgasm out of you.
■ alastor, who's sitting behind you, leaning against the headboard as he cradles your head in his lap. giving condescending comments as you go numb in their arms.
■ they balance each other out and it works pretty well tbh
■ oh, it's going to be a long night.
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this was kind of rushed and im not 100% happy with it but i had to stop the brainrot about those two
part two maybe??
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Lovely — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader
"She looks just like you." You whisper softly, gaze full of love as you admire the baby between both of you. He doesn't respond for a long while, completely enamored by the little girl who is holding his finger with her entire tiny hand, looking in awe at the life you both created.
"She's so tiny." He whispers back, secretly afraid he'll startle the baby with his deep voice despite knowing she has fallen asleep to his voice and hums more than once. A small chuckle from you is all it takes for her face to turn towards you, her free hand grabbing a strand of your hair and trying to take it to her mouth before Simon gently intervenes, taking it back and giving her another finger to hold.
"Thank you." His gaze focuses on you as he cups your cheek, thumb tracing random patterns on your skin as the corners of his mouth tilt up in a small, tender smile.
"What for?" You ask as if you didn't know exactly what he was talking about, as if he hadn't thanked you hundreds of times for carrying his child ever since he found out you were pregnant.
"For creating her." His tone is as gentle and tender, and if it didn't show just how much he loves you, the look in his eyes totally did. He's looking at you like you're a goddess in the flesh— and you are. You give him a warm smile, leaning closer to plant a small kiss on his cheek, which he returns.
"I like our baby." He murmurs, his hand coming down to caress her cheek gently with one finger. He treats her like she's made of glass, and in his mind, she is. She's so tiny compared to his behemoth frame, and it took a while until he felt comfortable enough to hold her. He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, gaze drifting between his angels before he lets out a small sigh of content.
"She likes you too." You tease, playfully poking his side as the memories of how much of a daddy's girl your daughter is already despite being only three months old. It's lovely, really, to see the man everyone knows as "the big boy with the skull mask" become absolute putty under the tiny hands of his daughter.
He bends backwards for her, holding her late at night and talking to her, telling her all sort of stories about his life despite knowing she can't understand yet. His heart melts whenever his daughter simply looks up at him and babbles, hand reaching out to him and pulling on anything she can reach with surprising strength.
"Mum would have loved her." Your heart breaks at his hushed words, hand immediately reaching out to caress his cheek as he refuses to hold your gaze, simply looking down at your daughter with sadness hidden deep inside his loving stare.
"Look at me, big guy." It takes a few seconds for him to look up, and when he does, you can feel everything. The regret, the longing, the sadness, the pain. You bring him closer for a soft kiss, both of your lips turning up into a smile as your daughter interrupts you by babbling and holding onto Simon.
"You carry her love with you. In your eyes, your smile, your hair... her love didn't go with her when she passed." He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek softly before nodding his head, carefully holding onto your daughter before laying her down on his chest, one of his hands supporting her neck while the other one holds her body close to his.
"Never saw it that way." His voice sounds distant now, yet it's never devoid of affection and love for you. You know him well enough to know he's visiting a graveyard of memories. You lay down next to him, head resting on his shoulder, planting a kiss on his soft jawline.
"She was the best nan. Always spoiling Joseph and buying him anything she thought he'd like... at some point Tommy and Beth were running out of space because he had so many bloody toys." A small chuckle escapes his lips, smiling fondly at the memories of his family before they were taken from him. He felt comfortable enough with you to be able to speak about his family— you were always so patient, waiting years for this.
"They sound lovely." Another kiss to his jawline as you look at your daughter absent-mindedly run her fingers over his tattoo sleeve. It's ironic, to see such an innocent person tracing something meant to be representing of destruction and loss, yet that's what his life is, two sides of the coin that is Simon Riley's past and present. "I'm sure they're watching over you, proud that you have this life."
He gives you a soft grin, planting a kiss on your forehead as he looks out of the window, fingers absent-mindedly caressing your daughter's back while he looks up at the sky. I made it, mum.
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willowjay07 · 1 year
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Alright, I know I’ve failed several deadlines since September alone, but I’m going to start posting the episodes on Halloween.
#i'm hoping that announcing my deadline will give me more incentive to actually finish it#plus posting it on Halloween would be too good to pass up#i was supposed to have the first issue of bgb done by Halloween last year lol#they might be detailed outlines when they're first posted#i'm going to get most of the episodes outlined first then start working on the scripts#i'm thinking about releasing one episode weekly and then taking small breaks at the middle and end of each season to mimic how actual tv sh#ows get released#unfortunately i don't have the budget to make a whole ass show on my own but i've got the time and determination to write a whole ass show#btw if it was actually released it would've been an adult animated fantasy dramedy#oh well posting it beats nothing and it's free and people will finally be able to see it#posting was supposed to be like my last resort AFTER i had already tried begging a studio or a crowdfunding campaign#i just woke up one day and i was like i can't do this anymore#i feel like i'm writing in a void and i would tell nobody anything and i couldn't post one little spoiler as a treat and one day all of tha#would be worth it because i'd get a tv show made#but i might never get one made and that's sort of ok with me#writing a tv show is still a huge accomplishment even if it never gets made and i never get to make a career out of it#as far back as i can remember this is all i've wanted to do with my life#oh fuck i went off in the tags again sorry guys#oh well no one's going to read this far lol#i could hide a recipe for meth in here and i'd bet nobody would notice#my shenanigans
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steddielations · 5 months
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Steve acts on instinct.
There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.
There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.
They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.
“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.
“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”
Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”
It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”
“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”
Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.
“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.
He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.
It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.
“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”
Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.
“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”
Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.
Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.
“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.
“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.
The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.
He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.
“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”
He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”
“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.
“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”
Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.
“I think I’d definitely remember you.”
Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.
“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”
Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”
“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”
Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”
Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”
“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.
Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.
It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.
That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.
Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.
“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.
“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.
“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”
“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”
He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.
Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.
He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.
Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.
“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.
Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.
What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.
At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.
Oh.
He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—
Yeah, just. Oh.
Part 2
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steddiewithachance · 5 months
Text
I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
2K notes · View notes
zorobff · 8 months
Text
how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)
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synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.
warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left
word count: 4.7k
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“this guy is full of shit.”
you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 
zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 
“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 
“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”
you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 
the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 
“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 
you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”
“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 
you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 
zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”
“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 
at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 
“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  
zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”
“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 
zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.
“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 
you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”
before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 
“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 
you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 
“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 
he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  
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“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 
“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 
“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”
“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.
“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”
zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”
you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 
“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.
“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.
“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 
you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 
going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 
“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.
usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”
zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”
“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 
abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”
the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 
the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”
“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”
“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”
before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 
“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 
“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 
the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 
“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 
“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 
your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”
“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 
kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 
klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”
“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 
giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 
luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 
“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”
she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 
“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 
“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 
his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.
the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.
“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”
he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”
his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 
“hey, you comin’?”
you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 
“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 
zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.
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“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”
“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 
“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.
nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 
“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 
“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 
you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.
nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 
you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”
“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.
nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.
“way to keep me humble, luffy.”
“no problem!” 
at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 
“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.
he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  
“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 
“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 
his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 
“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 
as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 
“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 
“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”
you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.
the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 
“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 
he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”
you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”
zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”
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by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 
luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 
“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.
“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 
“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 
dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”
“very on brand.”
“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”
arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 
once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.
“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.
you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.
looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 
kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 
“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 
“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 
while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 
“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”
you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.
kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 
he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 
you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 
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“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 
“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.
“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 
you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”
zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 
his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 
before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 
luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 
“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 
“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 
“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 
“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”
you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 
“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.
you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.
“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 
“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.
“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.
all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 
“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.
“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.
a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.
turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”
“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.
kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”
the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”
you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”
zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”
you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 
“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.
he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 
you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”
he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.
“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”
kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”
“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”
“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 
the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 
he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”
you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”
he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”
“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 
“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”
you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”
“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”
you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”
you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”
the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 
“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.
that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.
kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.
zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 
sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.
“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.
he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”
you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”
“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”
his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”
the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 
you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.
“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”
“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”
he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”
you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”
that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 
though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.
“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.
zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”
“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.
“only for pretty things.”
“do you mean me or the dress?” 
now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 
a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.
“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  
he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 
when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 
“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.
you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”
you both know that means yes.
7K notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
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Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈
When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.
And fuck his aching for yours too.
If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.
But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.
Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.
Ding
Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.
You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...
At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.
The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."
Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.
You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.
He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.
Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.
Ding
It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.
"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."
You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.
He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."
The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.
Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.
Ding
One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."
Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.
Part 2:
5K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 8 days
Note
How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?
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Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.
He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.
‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.
‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.
He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.
Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!
Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.
He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.
Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?
Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.
Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.
He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.
‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.
‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.
‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.
Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.
He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.
Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.
He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.
He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.
Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.
Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.
Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!
You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.
Argenti
‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’
Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.
All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.
‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.
Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.
He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.
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hairmetal666 · 10 months
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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.
Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.
He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.
"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.
He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?
Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.
He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.
Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.
Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.
Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.
Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.
"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."
Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."
Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"
Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.
"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."
"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."
"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."
"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.
"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.
"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."
They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.
"Working on new music?"
Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.
"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"
Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."
"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."
He grimaces. "That's a low bar."
"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.
"Shut-up."
"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."
"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"
"No, not at all. Just curious."
"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"
"Gossip," Eddie frowns.
"Anyone else you got your eye on?"
"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.
"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.
Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"
Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."
"Are you lonely?"
"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."
"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.
"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"
"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"
"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.
"The one that got away?"
"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."
Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"
"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"
"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."
Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.
"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."
"Wait, Steve--"
"See you around."
He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.
Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.
"Eddie, I don't--"
"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."
"What?"
"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."
"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?
"God, since 1986, at least."
Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"
"You're mine too," the words tumble out.
"What?"
"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."
"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"
"Pathetic gay yearning and all."
Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.
Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.
Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."
"It's been a decade!"
"Fuck," Eddie cackles.
They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.
"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.
Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"
"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."
"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"
Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."
Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."
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